The Forgotten Men
by SocialDegenerate
Summary: Side B-based; The amnesiac, formerly Kudoh Yohji, is transferred to London, where Aya is still working as an assassin. Is it fate or retribution for their sins that brings them together again?
1. Chapter 1: Transfer

*******Technically, this is set during 'Side B', but it's difficult to get a decent translation these days and I can't read Japanese, so the actual details are a little sketchy. But this is probably going to be mostly from Yohji's (well, "Yohji's" *finger quotes*) point of view, so the Krypton Brand team won't have all that much to do. And, in my apparently-typical fashion, I decided, 'Fuck it. I'm gonna do it the way I want.' That's why none of the new characters will act the way they do in the manga…because I don't exactly know _how_ that is, though I can hazard a few guesses.

Also: a large portion of the post-Gluhen fics I've read refer to Yohji as having taken the name Itou Ryo. I realise that the Itou is shown to be Asuka 3.0's surname, but is there any canonical backing to the Ryo? I'm going to run with it anyway.

This fic is rated for future developments…*_cough_ yaoi _cough_* ahem…plus my swearing. I just can't help it. And maybe some violence, just for good measure.*******

* * *

Itou Ryo's index and middle fingers instinctively lifted to his lips, a nervous habit that he just couldn't stop.

Asuka said that he'd been a smoker before the…_accident_, because his lungs apparently showed some serious damage. She thought that his little subconscious habit proved that he'd once like to light up when worried. Now, though, he had no craving for cigarettes and he wasn't about to start again and give himself lung cancer.

He'd been given a second chance; if the accident he'd been in was bad enough to destroy his adult memories and most recollection of his teenage years, as well as his bank of names and places, then he was lucky to be alive.

Well, actually, he was lucky in more ways than just that. The fact that he still had _some_ vague memories, ones that went up until the time when he was about fourteen, meant that his recollection of the world around him hadn't disappeared. He still remembered his family, even if the memories weren't entirely favourable and their names were always one step away. He'd even been able to figure out that he had turned twenty-nine in March, just a few months earlier.

And then there was the silver lining of the car crash that had taken his more recent memories: the fact that he was now married to the pretty nurse who had taken such good care of him in the hospital.

Ryo smiled absent-mindedly as he thought of the woman he'd recently made his wife. She was beautiful, with long hair and dark eyes…such a caring person, both at home and at her job…

_And there, _Ryo thought, _lies my current problem._ His hand now drew up to twist the ends of his short, dirty blonde hair, and the stray thought flittered through his mind that his fingers shouldn't have had to move so far up. Frowning a little, Ryo assumed that his brain was holding onto another old habit; maybe his hair had once been longer? Would it look _better_ if it grew out a bit?

Shaking his head a little, Ryo returned to his main stream of thought. How on Earth was he going to break the news to Asuka?

When he had been called into the boss' office at work, Ryo had been assuming the worst. After all, he wasn't all that _good_ at his job. Sure, he got by without too much conflict, but he always felt that office work just wasn't for him.

But it had been the only company willing to take a chance on a man with no references, job history, prior record…He could have been a psychopathic child killer, for all they knew.

He couldn't have afforded to lose his salary. They couldn't live on just Asuka's wage.

But, within a minute of the meeting's beginning, it had become clear that Ryo wasn't being fired.

Technically, he was being promoted.

The issue was that, in addition to a higher pay rate, better working hours and more job security, he was getting a new office.

An office in London.

His boss had assured him that he _might_ only be overseas for a month; and when he returned, his pay and hours would remain at the better levels.

Ryo had been immediately conflicted. Asuka loved Japan, and she loved her work at the hospital. He couldn't drag her away from all that, and he didn't know if he could leave her behind; even for just thirty days.

Obviously, Ryo's uncertainty about moving had shown on his face, and his boss had been quick to mention that this trip _wasn't_ optional. The blonde could move for an indeterminate amount of time, or he could leave the company altogether.

Then and there, Ryo's decision had been made for him. He didn't know how Asuka would take the news, and he didn't particularly want to leave Japan, but…they both had jobs because they couldn't live comfortably on one salary.

Now, he had to break the news to his wife, who was waiting patiently at home so that they could have dinner together.

He felt horrible…it was all his fault. If he'd been a normal man, then it wouldn't have been so much of a hassle to find a new, _better_ job; one that let him stay where he was.

But no. He was the man without a past who had simply adopted the name Itou Ryo- they had decided that it was better to allow Asuka to keep her name, rather than making her take the one Ryo had made up, off the top of his head, when it became clear that his real name was beyond him. He'd never be able to give Asuka the life she deserved, and this was a prime example.

Sighing, Ryo traipsed the last few steps along the street to his and Asuka's apartment. He was going to have to face this problem now…he was leaving in a week.

At least the company had taken the liberty of setting up a place for him to rent in England, an apartment that would easily be big enough for two.

Opening the front door to his home, Ryo was immediately greeted by Asuka's pretty face, radiantly happy with a bright smile. The expression fell, though, as she noticed the tension running through her husband's body.

"Ryo, darling…what's wrong?" The worry that Asuka showed just made what Ryo had to say _that much_ harder. She loved him enough that they'd make it through this, but…it was going to hurt her.

"Sit down, Asuka. I have something that I really need to tell you."

She gasped, and Ryo took her gently by the forearm as he led her to the couch, sitting down so that they were eye-to-eye.

"What happened? Is it…are you sick?" Asuka reached out to take Ryo's hand, and he smiled sadly. She was just so loving…

"No. It's nothing like that. Rather, I…they told me today at work that I'm being promoted."

Asuka's eyes suddenly lit up, and she squeezed Ryo's hand. "Oh, that's wonderful, honey! I th-…"

"The promotion involves me being transferred to London." Ryo cut his wife off, unable to bear her excitement.

"Wh-…But…"

"They don't know how long I'll be there, but it might be as short as a month…or as long as a year or two. You can come with me; the company has provided for that."

Asuka was silent, her eyes wide and bottom lip trembling. "I don't…I can't…I can't just leave my job like that, Ryo. I can't just drop everything and leave; I have responsibilities, patients…You didn't say yes to this yet, did you?"

The man let out a quiet, bitter laugh. "I don't have a choice. I'll be fired if I say no, and I won't be able to find another job. Not with my…condition."

Ryo tried to meet his wife's gaze but she refused to make eye contact, instead preferring to stare at the ground. "When are you leaving?"

Pain ran through Ryo's heart. "A week from tomorrow."

Nodding, Asuka stood up. "I could need more time than that to decide and put everything in order. You might need to leave on your own, if this really _is_ your only choice. I may choose to meet you later."

Ryo's breath caught, and he reached for his wife as she walked towards the kitchen. "Asuka…I'm so sorry."

There was a slight falter in her step, but she didn't look back towards the sad man on the couch. "Your dinner will be getting cold."

The blonde dropped his arm and clenched his hands together, watching the way tendons flexed and shifted under scarred flesh. There were unexplainable old wounds all over his skin, but his hands and fingers held more marks than anywhere else on his body. He didn't remember getting any of them, and he couldn't help but think that it was somehow related to his utter unsuitability for office work.

Really, as his boss had informed him, the only reason _he_ had been picked for the transfer was his near-fluency in English. That was yet another mystery about his past, along with the scars and the odd tattoo that adorned his left bicep: one day, he had picked up a book of English poetry that Asuka owned, and realised that he could understand a large section of the language.

After a few quick lessons with his then-girlfriend, it had been discovered that he had obviously learnt the language at some point, rather comprehensively at that. He didn't know why he would have needed it, though.

Then again, Ryo vaguely remembered times as a child when people had whispered that his Japanese father hadn't been the one to impregnate his Japanese mother. The blonde hair he'd woken up in hospital with had been clearly dyed, but the regrowth was still too pale for a normal Asian man. It was entirely possible that his _true_ father had been American or British. Maybe that was related to why he knew English.

Ryo sighed as he realised just how irrelevant that thought was. His parents were both dead, and he had more pressing problems in his current time. As much as he wanted to remember _something_ about the missing years, he had a lovely wife who was clearly hurting.

He owed it to her to try and stop worrying about irrelevant shit, and focus solely on making this transfer as easy as possible for the both of them.

When Ryo eventually made it to the dining room, the meal was lukewarm and the atmosphere was tense. He couldn't help but wonder if his good fortune was finally running out, eighteen months after he'd woken up to the woman he had later married looking after him.

Barely another word was spoken for the remainder of the night, and the couple slept back-to-back.

* * *

The lights and sounds of a London evening felt an eternity away to Aya, stuck as he was in the cramped ceiling space of a warehouse on the outskirts of the city.

When he'd been stabbed on the street and left to die, he had expected release from this life. The last thing he had been anticipating had been to be drafted into a new team.

He'd been ready to go to Hell. It might have been preferable to another life of killing; and maybe he would have been able to look up at Aya-chan from the next world, and watch her living her life as fully as she was able.

A tiny, sad smile appeared on Aya's face as he thought about someone else who was probably in Hell right there and then: Kudoh Yohji, the member of Weiss who hadn't survived to laboratory's collapse. Surely Kudoh would be making the most of looking up at the world from below; he was probably standing there right now, trying to look up as many skirts as possible. The pervert.

A tiny pang of grief ran through Aya at the thought of Yohji and women. Aya had admired him from afar after he had been able to clear his mind of revenge, and had watched the blonde suffer through so much. He had never been in _love_, but Yohji had been the person in the world that Aya liked the most, apart from his sister. His death, as relayed by the new Persia, had been enough to actually let Aya _feel_.

Maybe when Aya finally got sent to Hell, he would be able to tell Yohji how he felt.

Then again, 'Kudoh the Womaniser' would probably be too busy with the upskirting of beautiful women to pay any heed to the freakish redhead he'd ignored for so long.

Aya couldn't help but wonder where all these thoughts were suddenly coming from. Maybe it was the fact that _nothing_ was happening beneath him that had sent him into a reflective, melancholic mood; the lack of a focus point was causing his mind to wander.

He almost missed the old days, when he seemed to have a limitless amount of direction and he was nearly impossible to distract.

But now, Aya-chan was safe and Takatori Reiji was long dead. Yohji was probably finding a way to enjoy Hell, Takatori Mamoru had taken on the 'responsibilities' of his filthy name, and Ken was…

Ken was speaking to him through his earpiece.

"Target approaching, three guards. Seven seconds to mark."

Clearing his head, Aya drew his katana and ensured that his mask was in place.

Silently, he dropped through a small hole in the ceiling and proceeded to slaughter the four unlucky men beneath him, a little of their blood splashing on his coat and gloved hands.

Wiping his sword on one of their shirts, he stood up straight and walked quietly towards the rendezvous point.

The deaths didn't even come _close _to bothering him anymore.


	2. Chapter 2: Flowers

It had been a lonely fortnight in London. The weather had been typically dreary, even as summer approached; and as Ryo didn't really know a single person in the entire country, his only initial cure for the solitude had been the odd phone call to Asuka.

The time difference made those a rare pleasure, though, and the woman herself always sounded distant and sad. The calls hadn't done very much to alleviate the loneliness.

On his second day in his new apartment, which was far too big for a single person, Ryo had seen a pub from his living room window.

Now he practically spent more time across the road, drinking, than in the lodgings that the company were partially subsidising. He'd go to work, do the exact same shit he'd done in Japan, catch the train home, drop his briefcase through the front door, and book it straight to the pub.

At least there were _people_ at the bar, bringing with them noise and movement and conversation. Even miserable drunkards were better than sitting alone in a near-empty apartment, the television blaring in order to bring some life to the place.

Ryo threw back the last of his scotch, immediately signalling for another from the older barkeep. It slid across the shining bar to land neatly in his hands, followed soon by the bartender himself leaning against the wood in front of Ryo.

There weren't many people in the pub on a Wednesday night, and the older man always made a point of talking to Ryo if he didn't have much work to do. They'd struck up a tenuous sort of professional friendship in the two weeks that the blonde had been coming by the place, and Ryo felt grateful to have someone other than Asuka to talk to.

He hadn't told his wife just how pathetically depressing life in London was; he knew that she would beg him to come home, and that he might just agree.

But, as he told himself over and over again, he _needed _this job. He couldn't run away now. He had responsibilities to Asuka; adult responsibilities that he needed to face up to.

He was twenty-nine, for Christ's sake. He could deal with a little loneliness and boredom.

"You're looking slightly less glum tonight, Ry. Something halfway decent happen?" The bartender, Matt, always referred to Ryo as 'Ry'. He didn't seem to feel comfortable with the foreign tilt to the name, and Ryo was more than happy to oblige the man.

It wasn't like it was his real name, after all.

"Hmm? Oh, nah. Same shit, different day." Ryo waved the guy off, taking a swig from the glass before him. It was incredibly lucky that he'd learnt English at some point; he hadn't met a single Japanese person since he'd moved overseas, and a life without proper communication would've been more than Ryo could handle.

"Really? Well, you seem better. Starting to get used to this classic British weather?"

"Ugh, not likely. I need the sun; pale isn't a good look for me." When he started drinking, Ryo's tongue loosened and he tended to say things that he otherwise wouldn't.

One evening, Matt had remarked that Ryo often made comments about his looks after imbibing large amounts of booze. A sober Ryo didn't particularly give a shit about his appearance; he had no one to impress, because Asuka often said that she would love him no matter what.

But a drunken Ryo had once stared at his dull reflection on the bar for twenty minutes, bemoaning the faint lines on his forehead and rapidly-darkening circles under his eyes. Apparently, he'd said something along the lines of, 'those poor women who would be distraught that he was getting older.'

Ryo hadn't known how to feel about the comment from Matt; the man had quickly worked to clarify himself though, saying that it was _just_ on the right side of narcissistic arrogance.

The blonde had smiled a little, wondering if this second personality was merely a side-effect of the alcohol…or if it was some facet of his old life returning.

Matt knew quite a lot about Ryo, but he didn't know about the amnesia that had completely restarted Ryo's life. Some things were just a little too complicated to explain, and being left unconscious in front of a hospital with little more than a note detailing a mysterious traffic accident was _definitely_ one of those things.

If the barkeep ever asked something about the missing years, Ryo made something up. Some of the crap he came up with was utterly ridiculous; he figured that Matt assumed he was just drunkenly embellishing.

"Gotta look the best for the old ball and chain, right?" Matt let out a laugh, and Ryo half-heartedly joined in. The last thing he wanted to think about was Asuka, living all alone back in Japan.

Maybe, at some point soon, he should go back and visit her properly.

"Listen, mate. From what you've told me, it's looking like you'll be here for longer than that month. As much as I enjoy seeing your face- that handsome expression makes a nice change from the regular old drunks- you need to start _trying_ to make a proper life. Get some damn furniture for that nice, _empty_ apartment."

Oh. Ryo had forgotten that Matt had seen inside his bare little 'home'; the man had dragged him there the week before…he'd been a little too drunk to make it back across the street on his own.

_That_ had led to a fun, hung-over day at work.

"I don't know…" Ryo took another swig, frowning when the drink promptly ran out. He lifted his head to order another, but he shut his mouth when he saw Matt standing there with his arms crossed, looking down at him.

"No more, Ry."

"Just _one_? Please?"

"Nope. And instead of coming here tomorrow night, I expect you to go out and buy something for that apartment."

Ryo grumbled under his breath, but he knew that Matt was right. His new boss had said that his work in London wasn't going to be complete for at least another month, and his apartment wasn't good enough to live in for another _week._

The walls were bare, and only the minimum essentials were there furniture-wise. It wasn't welcoming in the least…no wonder Ryo was blowing half his cash on alcohol every night.

"You mean bastard…I'll think about it. But I'm not promising that I won't just end up at another bar."

"I can see the front door to your building from here. I'll know if you take anything home."

Ryo narrowed his eyes, leaning forward in a manner that he _thought_ was intimidating. It really wasn't, though.

"You're a fucking stalker, that's what you are. Creepy-assed bastard." For a moment, Ryo thought that Matt had actually been offended by his words. Then he realised that the man just looked confused.

"In English, please?"

Ryo's expression suddenly matched Matt's perfectly, before it clicked that he'd fallen back into his native language. That only tended to happen when he got _really _homesick.

Sighing, Ryo stood up and handed Matt several bills. "It doesn't matter. If it'll get you off my back, I'll go out and buy a painting or something tomorrow. See you sometime."

"Don't do a half-assed job, now! Pick something good."

Waving sarcastically, Ryo walked out of the bar and back to his apartment. Stupid asshole bartender, getting on his stupid case about stupid shit.

But he still knew that Matt had a point. He'd go buy something good, instead of more booze. Just this once.

* * *

The next day after work, Ryo spent the train ride wondering just _what_ helped to make his apartment in Japan a proper home. He realised that having Asuka there was a large part of it, but there had to be _something_…

Three stops before his usual station, Ryo got off the train and headed for the closest shopping district. Maybe if he walked around for a bit, saw a few stores, he'd get some sort of inspiration.

He spent a good thirty minutes without entering a single business, and by this point he was beginning to worry about how late it was getting. Most of the stores were closing, and he didn't know if he'd find anything in time…

He wasn't even sure why he'd gone so far out of his way to fulfil Matt's request, but he had a slight inkling that it had something to do with the fact that the bartender was the closest thing he had to a _friend_ in London.

As he walked, Ryo slowly became aware of something that sounded like…young, over-excited girls. Maybe it was the release of a brand new pop album…or maybe that was just Japanese teens.

Shrugging, Ryo walked in the general direction of the chatter. He was curious to see what had gotten the girls so wound up.

When he turned a corner, he immediately saw where the noise was coming from, if not _why_. A group of adolescent females were crowding around a small store, chattering amongst themselves about something that Ryo couldn't quite catch. The distance, combined with the speed and accents of the talking, meant that the blonde man didn't exactly understand what they were saying.

He walked a bit closer, wondering just what kind of store would work the crowd up so much.

He stopped still when he realised that it was…a flowershop.

Why would teenage girls be so interested in _flowers_?

Ryo, standing on the footpath as he watched the spectacle in front of him, realised that something in his mind was telling him to go inside the store. Thinking back, it occured to him that Asuka always had a vase of something sitting just inside the front door…and also that the first time he had seen her, she had been changing the flowers that sat beside his hospital bed.

Nodding resolutely, Ryo picked his way through the crowd. It was more difficult that he thought it would be, but eventually he made it to the front door without hurting anyone.

A small bell rang as he pushed the door open, and when it closed behind him, he though he'd reached an oasis. The inside of the store was surprisingly quiet and peaceful, with no other customers in sight.

It was a little strange, considering how the _outside_ had been.

From deeper inside the building, a male voice called out. "I'm sorry, girls, but we're about to start closing. We need to concentrate."

Ryo realised that it was probably rude of him to go bursting into a store this late into the afternoon. "Oh, sorry about that. I'll come back."

There was a second of silence before a tall man suddenly appeared from the back of the store. "Wait! You're an actual customer! No, go right ahead and look. I thought that you were more of those bloody girls, who simply get in the way and never buy a single thing."

Ryo laughed- he wasn't surprised. And he was starting to get an idea about why the girls were there in the first place: the longish-haired blonde in front of him was rather handsome.

"Are you looking for anything in particular?"

Ryo had to look around for a minute. He'd never paid all that much attention to the flowers that Asuka bought; he had no idea where to start. The florist would probably be able to help, though.

"I'm trying to brighten up my apartment a bit, so I thought I'd try flowers. Can't say I've ever bought them before, though."

"Uh-huh…well, I'm sure we can find you something. I'm Chloe, by the way."

Ryo somehow managed to stop his eyebrow rising at that. Why would a male have such an obviously feminine name? Before he could appear to be too rude, he woke up and shook the man's offered hand.

"I'm Ryo."

Chloe's forehead creased, and Ryo had no idea why. The stranger tilted his head to the side, seeming to size Ryo up.

"Are you Japanese, by any chance?"

Ryo's eyes widened. "Yeah, actually, I am. How'd you know…"

"Three of the other men who work here are Japanese. You can learn to pick up on this sort of thing."

Ryo knew that he wanted to meet one of them. He missed speaking his native language; even if it was just about flowers, he wanted to make sure he wasn't losing his touch.

"Are any of them here today? It's just, I haven't met a single Japanese person since I came here."

"Yeah, I'm sure someone will appear in a minute. In any case, shall we have a look at some of these flowers?"

Chloe began to walk around the edges of the store, pointing out various buckets full of colourful plants. Ryo frowned a little; they all looked kinda the same.

Just as he'd decided to grab a bunch of the next thing that Chloe gestured to, a small bucket caught his eye. The flowers were sort of star-shaped, with pinkish leaves that had yellow streaks running through the middle.

They didn't seem all that different to anything else, but Ryo realised that he wanted them. Tapping Chloe on the shoulder, he pointed at the bucket. "What are those ones there called? The pink and yellow ones?"

The man took a second to think, before he smiled calmly. "Those are cattleya orchids. They can be a little difficult to keep alive, but Aya insists that we at least _try_ to have some in. They're rather pretty, aren't they?"

"I'll take some. Maybe…half a dozen?" Ryo paused as he realised something else, before continuing, "And you'd better put them in a vase. I've got nothing."

Chloe nodded before walking across the room to a case, where a number of vases sat. "Any preferences?"

"Whatever you think will look the best." Ryo took to wandering around the store again as the other man stood and picked out a vase. He tried to name as many of the flowers as he could, but there were very few that he actually recognised.

Sunflowers…lavender…roses…_hmm, actually_…

"Hey, Chloe." Waiting until the man turned around, Ryo stopped in front of a large display of roses.

"Yes?"

"How do you think some yellow roses would go with those orchids?"

Chloe took another few seconds to grab a vase before walking over to where Ryo stood. He grabbed a cattleya along the way, placing it in the vase with a yellow rose. Both men stood there, looking critically at the two flowers together.

After a few seconds, Ryo tipped his head back. "I can't tell if they look great or shit."

Chloe laughed, and it was a deep, rumbling sound. It put a smile on Ryo's face, and the two looked at each other rather companionably. Chloe was the first to speak again. "I don't believe that I can give you a proper answer; roses are my favourite flower. We need a second opinion."

Setting the vase down on the counter, the florist turned towards the back of the store. "Aya! Could you come out here for a few minutes, please?"

As they waited for this 'Aya' to appear, Chloe turned to face Ryo again. "Aya is one of the Japanese men who work here. He doesn't really look it, though."

Once again, Ryo had to hide his confusion. Aya was a female name in Japan; why were two of the men- at _least-_ in this store using girls' names?

Ryo blinked as a revelation suddenly occurred to him. Two male _florists_ who went by female monikers; was it possible that they were a little…_gay_?

Suddenly, he realised that someone had walked up behind him. He _hated_ it when people stood where he couldn't see them; it made him uncomfortable. As he turned, he heard Chloe begin talking to the new arrival.

"Aya, this is Ryo. He's Japanese too, and he seems a little homesick, so be nice."

"I'm always nice," came the rumbling, not-entirely-friendly reply. When Ryo saw the man who spoke in that deep tone, even deeper than Chloe's, his eyebrows jumped.

Chloe might have been handsome, but this Aya guy was…_pretty_. His reddish-brown hair, a tint that looked the slightest bit fake, framed his pale face and accentuated what seemed to be purple eyes.

He now understood what Chloe had meant when he'd said that Aya didn't really look Japanese. He certainly looked _good_, though…for a man.

"Hey, so you must be Aya," Ryo spoke in natural Japanese.

When the auburn man visibly stiffened, his body and face freezing, Ryo wondered if Chloe had made some sort of mistake. The man was just _staring_ at him, a look of panic beginning to spread across his fine-boned features.

The blonde florist seemed oblivious to this little development, or was simply ignoring it altogether. "Well, anyway, Aya: do you think that cattleyas and roses go well together? Or will it be an insult to floristry if they do?"

Ryo noticed that the weird man was trembling a little, his hands balled up at his sides.

Suddenly, the man turned away, muttering just loud enough for the two blondes to hear. "Cattleyas…roses…_should_ be together…doesn't seem to work out, though…never got to be a chance…why are you doing this, God…I didn't…_Yohji_…lying Takatori scum…"

The new arrival practically ran from the shop, disappearing almost as instantly as he'd arrived. Ryo and Chloe stared, open-mouthed, at the empty spot where Aya had previously stood.

"That was…odd," Ryo mumbled, and Chloe silently nodded his agreement.

It took almost a full minute before either man moved, and once again it was Ryo who took the initiative. "Uh…I suppose that I'll take half a dozen cattleyas, and another half dozen yellow roses."

Silence reigned as the flowers were wrapped and placed carefully in the vase, the whole lot deposited into Ryo's waiting hands as he paid for the twelve blooms.

"Um…thanks for that. I'm sorry for obviously freaking your friend out about something…maybe this combination really is just too ugly."

"Oh, don't worry…Aya can be a little strange at times, I suppose…have a good night anyway, Ryo."

"You, too," Ryo mumbled distractedly. He'd seen people react to him in a lot of different ways, but that was _certainly_ his first experience with pure terror and insane rambling.

Who was this mysterious, good-looking Aya? And why had he reacted like that?

Suddenly, Ryo knew that these were questions he wanted to answer. It seemed like it might be…_interesting._

* * *

*******I'm _so_ goddamned subtle. Also, if you ever see a point where I've referred to Ryo as Yohji, and it's clearly not meant to be that way (like if it's from Ryo's POV), feel free to point it out.*******


	3. Chapter 3: Judgement

**Update (03/Mar/11): **_I changed a few details in chapters one and three to remove a contradiction. Full details next chapter._

*******Thanks for the reviews, favourites and alerts, people out there, 'cause they help me keep going! I'd never intended to abandon this fic, of course, but I don't have a whole lot of time these days and I just can't stop writing WTTN (which is getting fairly epic in length…)

I'm glad that people seem to like Ryo, because he's practically half an OC (seeing as I think that Yohji's personality and behaviour was probably influenced by what happened to Asuka, but he doesn't remember any of that). For now, at least…

Oh, and because I don't know what kind of deck Free uses, I just went with a basic Tarot deck and interpretation.*******

* * *

"Flowers, Ry? _Really?"_

With his hand still on the door handle, Ryo had to quickly decide whether it was worth even entering the bar, or if he should just go somewhere else.

It seemed like Matt had been awaiting his arrival, which Ryo knew he should be annoyed by; but really, he understood that the bartender was just trying to look out for him.

It wasn't like he had any other friends, after all.

Sighing melodramatically and shaking his head, Ryo walked into the bar and took his usual seat in front of Matt. A drink appeared in his hand before he'd actually ordered it, and he smiled thankfully into the glass.

"So you _were_ watching. Wasn't sure if you'd decide that stalking's not a respectable past time."

Matt laughed, waggling his finger in the blonde's face. "It's technically only stalking if it's a repeating deal. I did it once."

"Why the Hell do you know…actually, I don't think I need to hear it." Ryo took a mouthful of his scotch, feeling the warmth spread through his body from the first drink of the evening.

He hadn't been through such a good day at work: he'd been even more distracted than usual, and he'd ended up having to re-do the same lot of figures three times because of _stupid_ mistakes.

He just couldn't get his mind off the previous day…

"Hey, I'll have you know that I lasted almost an entire year at law school. I could've been a hot-shot barrister, getting all the major criminals set free and absolutely _raking_ in the cash." Matt grinned, picking up a dish towel and a wine glass.

Ryo made no reply: he was suddenly distracted- once again- by the thoughts that had been plaguing him all day.

As much as he'd tried, he still couldn't get his thoughts away from his bizarre encounter with the men at the flowershop. Or, at least, with _one_ of the men from that store.

The look of pure panic on the redhead's face…why would the stranger react like that? There was no reason for Aya- Ryo easily remembered the odd name- to start babbling like a maniac over a question about flowers.

Unless…it had nothing to do with the query itself…

Ryo didn't realise that he was staring off into space, his drink and Matt ignored as a sudden thought occurred to him.

'_Did he…__**know**__ me? From…before?'_

But that was ridiculous. Even if Aya was Japanese, like Chloe had said, there were around a hundred and thirty _million_ people in that country alone. The chances of him finding someone he'd once known, in a flowershop halfway around the world, were so stupidly low that he wasn't sure why he was even bothering to think about this.

He probably just looked _like_ someone. Yeah, that would have to be it…

Fingers snapping in front of his eyes made Ryo jump slightly on the bar stool, and his scotch wobbled precariously as his hand swiped the glass. He only _just_ managed to steady the drink before it spilt all over him and the bar, the quick action making Matt clap in appreciation.

"Christ, Ry, now that was impressive! You were totally out of it, but you've got some damn fine reflexes. I just wanted to see if you were still alive in there, but…_wow."_

"…Really? Huh…that wasn't anything special from where I'm sitting…" Ryo shrugged, taking another swig. If anything, that was _slower_ than normal. But his reflexes weren't anything out of the ordinary, as far as he knew…

"But anyway, you wanna tell me what sent you off to La-La Land there? Or do I need to make up my own story?"

Ryo thought for a second, eventually sighing and sitting up straight. He needed to talk this through with someone, and Matt was right there. Maybe he should just tell the man his entire story…

"You got time for a long one? 'Cause you're gonna need some background information."

Matt glanced around the pub at the three other patrons, watching as one got up and walked out the front door. "I've got plenty of time, so fire away."

Ryo drained his glass, signalling for another as he started to talk.

"I know I said a few things, but I actually don't remember anything from when I was about fourteen right up until eighteen months ago. And even then, I can't remember much in the way of names- like people and places. Apparently I was in a car accident, and it wiped most of my memory. I was comatose in hospital for…a while." He paused, waiting for the inevitable questions.

"But…you…you seriously don't remember _anything?"_

"Nope."

"Wasn't there someone who could fill you in on the blanks?"

"Nope. No one ever came forward to say they knew me, and there were no missing person reports filed."

"…Then how did you get to hospital? And why didn't you have a wallet or anything?"

"I was apparently dumped at the front door with a note about the accident. That was it."

Matt blinked rapidly, eyebrows raised high. "…Woah. You're one interesting bloke, Ry! The mysterious amnesiac with a shady past…that's movie quality right there."

Ryo laughed a little, fingers wrapping around his newly-filled glass. "If you say so, Matt."

"Uh-huh, I do. And is that what's got you so thrown out today?" Matt was now completely engrossed in the conversation, dish towel thrown aside as he leaned over with his arms resting on top of the bar beside Ryo.

"No…I met a guy- a florist, actually- and he…" Ryo trailed off, not really sure where he was going with this. He what? Met a man who didn't seem to immediately like him, and this was suddenly serious business?

Matt's teasing voice drew Ryo out of his thoughts, his tone light and amused. "A guy, huh? Was he hot? And what would your wife have to say about you being out picking up men?"

Ryo's forehead crinkled at the mention of Asuka, his heart hurting a little from the distance between himself and his wife, but he drowned it out with another mouthful of scotch.

"Ha, ha. Anyone ever tell you how funny you are? I didn't mean it like _that_, you idiot."

Lightly slapping Matt across the side of his head, Ryo shifted on the seat. This conversation no longer seemed like such a good idea…

"Oh, I'm just teasing you. What'd this guy do that has you spacing out? And what's this got to do with your amnesia?"

"I'd get to that if you didn't keep interrupting me."

"No need to be snarky, Ry. I'm just interested is all." The blonde knew that Matt had a point. Of _course_ the bartender was going to have questions, considering the amount that Ryo himself had.

"Sorry. Anyway, when I was getting those flowers you saw me with, one of the men who worked in the store…completely _freaked out_ when Chloe asked him a question…"

Here Matt interrupted again, his constant curiosity getting the best of him. The barkeep was usually a good listener; but obviously this conversation was more interesting than usual, or something along those lines…

"Chloe? What about her, was she hot?"

Ryo stared blankly at the older man, his head tilting slightly to the side before he realised what Matt had assumed. "Chloe's a man. Weird, I know…"

"…Okay, I'm not asking any more questions. These answers are just bizarre."

Ryo laughed into his drink as he swallowed half at once. Only sheer luck stopped him from choking and spluttering everywhere. "Good choice. But that's not the main bit of the story."

True to his word, Matt remained silent and simply gestured for Ryo to continue. The blonde sat down his glass, but refused another refill.

"This other guy, the one that freaked out…when he looked at me, it was almost like he was…seeing a ghost, or something…"

Ryo ran a finger through a small puddle of condensation that his glass had left behind, idly drawing a little pattern on the bar.

When he looked down, he realised that he'd traced the characters for 'Aya' in katakana, the messy strokes clumsy but still legible. Frowning, he wiped the moisture away with his palm.

"I think he might know me…from before…"

Saying it out loud only reinforced to Ryo how stupid he sounded. It was entirely possible that the guy really _had_ just been insane. Or maybe Ryo was the insane one…

"Why? Did he say something, or…?" Ryo didn't mind the question this time, actually giving a proper answer.

"No…well, nothing that I could understand. He started mumbling about…I have no clue what, and then ran off. It was…weird." The more he spoke, the more Ryo convinced himself that Aya didn't know anything about his past. The redhead was crazy, nothing more.

"So _that's_ why you're acting a little odd tonight? Because you think this weirdo could have some answers? That's a little…"

'I know. It's ridiculous…I just kinda want to know _something_ about those missing years. But everyone I remember from before is either dead or completely untraceable."

Matt sighed, waving a finger in Ryo's face. "Don't jump to conclusions, Ry. As I was _saying_, that's a little bit of a long shot, but maybe you should go see him. Just to make sure, y'know?"

"But…"

"Go see the bloke. You won't know 'til you ask, right?" Matt stood up straight, groping about for the dish towel and turning away. This conversation was obviously finished.

"…Fine. I'll go back and see the crazy-assed florist. But when I don't show up tomorrow, it's 'cause I'm in the back of that lunatic's car with my limbs missing. And hit me up with another drink, would you?"

Matt turned around, a genuinely bright smile on his face. The expression turned the forty-five-year-old into a man who looked closer to thirty-five, the lines in his face softening. He quickly poured more scotch and set it before the blonde.

"Good choice. Sometimes, you've just gotta do these things."

Oddly, Ryo found that he agreed. A part of him was still insisting that it would be pointless, but a _larger_ section told him that he needed to know. After all, why else would he have been so distracted today?

He'd go back to that store tomorrow.

* * *

Ryo called in sick the next morning. A doctor had once told him that amnesia patients often suffered from severe migraines; if anything else, it was a good excuse to take some time off work. After all, it wasn't like his employers understood all that much about his condition, despite them having the basic facts. The lie was easy enough to spin.

He knew that he'd be just as distracted as the previous day if he tried working, and so it wasn't even worth the effort. He took a slightly later train than usual, to avoid seeing any of his co-workers; and rather than going all the way into the heart of the city, he got off after only three stops.

At the same station he'd disembarked at the previous day.

It was a little difficult to find the store without the sound of over-excited girls to follow, but Ryo managed to pursue his memory with only a couple of wrong turns. Stopping on the empty footpath in front of the flowershop, he took the time to properly examine the building.

It was completely unassuming, and Ryo didn't think he would have noticed the place without the help of yesterday's crowd. Actually, it was _very_ quiet; there didn't seem to be any other customers inside, as far as Ryo could see. A large sign above the door proclaimed it to be the 'Kitten's House'; _that_ sounded less like a florist's and more like a low-class strip joint.

Odd.

Unable to stop himself from laughing a little at the comparison, Ryo walked up the few steps to the store. The door was wide open, and he cautiously peered around as he entered the business. There was absolutely no one around…

"Hi! How are you? Can I help you with anything?" The sudden, overtly-cheerful greeting nearly scared the absolute _shit_ out of Ryo, his eyes widening as he looked around for the source of the voice.

He quickly settled on the figure of a young-looking boy in an apron, light brown hair falling slightly in front of big, innocent eyes. The bright smile on the boy's face was infectious, and Ryo found his lips beginning to turn upwards as well.

"Oh, hi. I'm, um…I'm looking for Aya?" Suddenly, Ryo began to feel uncertain again. The confidence that Matt had instilled in him was quickly disappearing, and now he wasn't even sure if he had the name right. After all, it was fairly ridiculous for a male…

But the young man just nodded, still smiling radiantly as he spoke, a slight Irish lilt infecting his English. "I bet you want one of the _proper_ arrangements- he's the only one who can do them right! Hold on, he's just out the back in the greenhouse."

There was something vaguely familiar about the kid…but as soon as Ryo had that thought, his memory stopped trying to cooperate.

"Free! Could you please go see if Aya's doing anything? He has a customer!"

Ryo's head whipped around again as a small sound of agreement came from his left, a tall man appearing and heading towards the back of the store. Where were all these people _coming_ from? At least Chloe had given him a bit of advanced warning yesterday…

"So, what's your name? I'm Michel, and that was Free."

"I'm Ryo." The blonde smiled politely, Michel's enthusiasm somehow managing to bleed away a little of his hesitation.

"Pleased to meet you, Ryo!" The boy stuck out his hand, waiting patiently while Ryo woke up and realised what he was doing. Ryo took the offered hand gently, but the strength of Michel's handshake surprised him; the small, feminine-looking boy was stronger than he appeared.

Ryo still wasn't one hundred percent clear on shaking hands; he just wasn't used to it. But Michel didn't seem offended by his weak grip, and Ryo was relieved.

"So, how has your day been so far, Ryo? It's such a nice day out there!" Michel turned to the side, straightening up a bucket of purple flowers- Ryo had no idea what their name was- before tilting his head back towards the blonde. His smile still hadn't faltered once, and it only grew happier when the tall man…_Free_…reappeared right behind his back.

Ryo frowned slightly when he saw the odd lines drawn on the taller man's face; were they _really_ permanent tattoos? Sure, Ryo had mysterious ink of his own, but that was on his arm. Facial tattoos were a whole different story.

He only realised that he was staring when he noticed the calculating expression on Free's face, tired eyes boring directly into his soul- or so it felt. Blushing a little from embarrassment, Ryo averted his gaze as Free spoke quietly.

"He's coming."

Ryo turned towards the back door, his heart rate picking up as he realised what he was about to do. Even though this was such a ridiculously stupid idea, he couldn't help but feel anticipation at the prospect of learning about his missing past.

When the slim figure appeared in the doorway, Ryo felt his mouth go dry. Now that the redheaded man was coming towards him, he had absolutely _no_ idea what he was going to say.

'_Hi! You started babbling madly when you last saw me, so you wouldn't happen to know what happened to me in the last fifteen years, would you?'_

'_Hi! I have no idea who you are, but could you please tell me about myself?'_

'_Hi! I'm clearly insane, and you seemed halfway there yesterday, so why don't we discuss each other!'_

He was going to get sent to a mental institution for this one, Ryo could tell. Luckily, Michel picked up the conversation before the blonde could stand there in silence any longer.

"Aya! This is Ryo, and he asked specifically for you. You're really getting your name out there as a florist!" Michel took that as his cue to leave, Free following closely behind.

Looking up into Aya's eyes as the man came to a stop a few metres from him, Ryo had to shove his hand into his pocket to avoid lifting his empty fingers to his lips. The look in those purple orbs was, in a word, _terrifying_. Ryo had never seen a look so purely devoid of emotion; it scared him.

Aya still hadn't said anything, so Ryo swallowed and finally took the initiative. "I…ah…I…I'm Ryo," he quickly babbled out, extending his hand. _Shit_, he'd already been introduced twice. Why had his brain chosen _now_ to go on vacation?

Aya looked deliberately down at Ryo's hand, not making any motion to return the gesture as his gaze travelled back up the blonde's body. Ryo uncomfortably dropped his hand, his stiff posture matching Aya's.

"Listen, um…Aya…" Ryo's tongue ducked out to wet his lips, his teeth biting at his bottom lip. He was coming off as a gabbling simpleton; this wasn't good.

An irritated sigh finally broke out from the taciturn redhead, his arms coming up to cross over his chest. "Is there a point to this…Ryo?"

The blonde opened his mouth to speak, but he cut himself short when a sudden realisation came to him: Aya hadn't said that in English.

"So you _do_ remember!" Ryo exclaimed, falling back into his native tongue. He wasn't sure, but he thought that Aya might have winced at the accusation; when the redhead spoke again, though, his tone was sure.

"And what am I remembering, exactly?"

Alright, the man had one Hell of an attitude. He'd gone back to using English; but Ryo didn't follow suit. He was encouraged by the fact that the man recalled him from the previous day- maybe there was more to this than he'd originally thought.

"Yesterday. You _have_ to remember what happened yesterday evening; how else would you know that I'm Japanese, and would understand you?"

"It was an accident. I don't know anything, Yohji; and even if I did, I don't see why it would matter."

"Don't lie to…wait, _what_ was that?" Ryo took a step towards Aya, his left hand reaching out to grab the man's shoulder. He wasn't surprised when the redhead dodged back to avoid him; but that wasn't his main focus right now. What the Hell had the man just called him?

'…Nothing. Don't _ever_ come back here." A pale hand reached up to tug sharply at red hair, Aya's face losing even more colour as he quickly turned around and made yet another quick exit from the store.

Groaning, Ryo slumped back against the wall. His head really _was_ beginning to hurt now, and this whole situation was confusing the fuck out of him. Soft footsteps ran over to him, and a much-less-cheerful voice spoke quietly in his ear.

"Are you okay? Do you need anything? I'm so, _so_ sorry about him…he's been acting strangely since last night for some reason…"

"I'm…I'm fine…" Ryo muttered, clearing his throat and standing up straight. Aya _knew_ something…something he obviously didn't want to talk about. Ryo wasn't content to let the man be selfish, though; he was going to find out _somehow_.

Michel didn't know anything, otherwise he probably would have mentioned it…_Chloe_. He needed to talk to Chloe- if the other blonde didn't know anything, maybe _he_ could get the information from Aya.

"Michel…is Chloe here? It's important…"

The young man paused, his face twisting uncertainly. Eventually, though, he nodded resolutely. "He's not on shift right now, but…I think he's upstairs. I'll see if I can find him."

Spinning around, Michel dashed in the same direction as Aya. Free took a couple of steps after the boy, but he paused and slowly turned back towards Ryo.

"Judgement day approaches."

Ryo raised an eyebrow; was _everyone_ in this place a complete nutter? The last thing he needed was a religious sermon: despite the fact that his tattoo boldly proclaimed 'sin', he wasn't particularly interested in Christianity, and he _certainly_ didn't care to hear about it right now.

"What the fuck are you on about, whatever the Hell your name is? Free?" He hadn't meant to snap; but his nerves were worn through. The tall man didn't seem perturbed, though, simply holding something out in his hand.

"Accept your future…and the past."

Ryo stared suspiciously at the man before looking down, seeing the object that was being offered to him…it looked like two playing cards, only bigger. Slowly taking the cards, he turned them over as footsteps were heard from the other end of the store.

"Ryo! What happened?" Chloe's deep voice rang out, and Ryo barely glanced at the top card before looking up as the blonde quickly approached. He vaguely registered the word 'judgement' in bold script across the bottom, but thought no more of it as he looked into concerned eyes and tucked the cards into his pocket.

"Can you take me in to see Aya? It's…important."

A tense silence, and then a quick nod; "Come this way, Ryo."

* * *

*******"Kitten's House", as it seems to be written on the sign in the Side B scans I've seen, reminds me of 'cat house' every time I see it/write it/think it. That's why there's a line about strip joints in there.*******


	4. Chapter 4: Emotions

*******It has been brought to my attention that I am an idiot (though it was phrased in nicer terms). It is completely illogical that Ryo wouldn't have been able to find out his real name if he could remember his parents' names and visit their graves. I can't believe I didn't pick up on that myself…but anyway, chapters one and three have been adjusted accordingly, and I'm fairly certain that the contradiction has been removed…or at least explained away a bit. Thanks, forever2x1.*******

* * *

_Nineteen months earlier_

* * *

_Aya sat in the kitchen of Weiss' current base, staring blankly into a tepid cup of tea. The house was painfully empty, its sole occupant_ _as silent as a shadow._

_Kyou was dead; Sena was dead; Omi was dead, replaced by the traitorous Mamoru Takatori; Ken had disappeared three days ago, leaving his mobile phone on the kitchen bench; and Yohji…_

_Yohji was still unaccounted for._

_His body had not been found in the wreckage of the Esset laboratory, nor had there been any report of a patient matching his profile at any hospital within two hundred kilometres. _

_His mind announced that hope was quickly fading, and Aya had always tended to listen to his thoughts rather than his emotions. After all, that final mission had been completed almost a full week ago._

_A sudden knock the house's side door startled Aya from his lamentations; looking listlessly to his right, he saw the slightly distorted figure of the youngest Takatori and his bodyguard through the kitchen window._

_Slowly moving from the table, Aya made his way across to open the door. Standing firm in the frame, he didn't allow the two visitors to enter the house; he despised the idea of inviting a Takatori and an ex-member of Schwarz into the building._

"_What?" Aya's tone lacked any real inflection, though it sounded vaguely lethargic. He couldn't bring himself to care._

"_It's…it's about Yohji, Aya. Can we come in?" Takatori's voice sounded as if he was trying to channel the Tsukiyono Omi of old, and it repulsed the redhead. _

"_No." The younger man didn't look surprised at the quiet answer, though he quickly dropped the mask of compassion that he had been wearing._

_His voice and face now reflected the self-interested cruelty inherent in every member of the Takatori family; this was not going to be a pleasant conversation._

"_Fine; as you wish, Abyssinian. Former agent Kudoh Yohji's body was recovered from the collapsed building late yesterday. It appears that he has been dead since the initial destruction of the facility."_

…_The words barely penetrated Aya's numbness, and he nodded once before attempting to close the door. When the redhead tried to isolate himself, though, Prodigy held up his hand and the wood refused to budge. _

"_As the last active member of Weiss, I have several options here for your continuing employment. I will return in a week for your answer." Takatori revealed a large envelope, holding it out for several seconds while waiting for the older man to physically take it. _

_Violet eyes simply stared at the white rectangle being held forward, pale hands making no move to accept it. _

"_And if I choose to leave?" Aya asked eventually, still staring at the envelope. His voice was reluctant and quiet; he was trying to avoid thinking too much. _

_Thoughts would bring more pain._

"_Then you will need to have your affairs in order before the week is up." Takatori shook the envelope, finally rolling his eyes and gesturing to Prodigy. The files began to make their own way inside the building, turning to float through the narrow space between Aya and the door frame. _

"_One week, Abyssinian."_

_Takatori and his new lapdog turned away, their figures retreating as Aya watched with little observation. The redhead didn't notice how hard his fingers were clenched around the door handle, instead feeling only the growing pain in his chest._

_Yohji was dead. Aya would never get to yell at that smirking, handsome face ever again; he wouldn't smell the horridly relaxing scent of cigarettes, whores and something distinctly Kudoh ever again._

_He would never get the chance to find out if the straightest man he'd ever met was willing to swing the other way._

_Letting out a shuddering breath, Aya closed the door and took slow, uneven steps back to the kitchen. The envelope was sitting neatly on the table, the lack of a name or address mocking the redhead. _

_He didn't exist. He was nobody; no one needed him. Aya didn't need him, working as she was in the original Koneko. The other Weiss didn't need him: dead men have no use for the living, after all. _

_A quick investigation would tell anyone that Fujimiya Aya was an engaged woman with a university education and a respectable fiancé; a similar search would reveal that Fujimiya Ran had been dead for around a decade._

…_Maybe he would be better off allowing Takatori to end his life. That way, he could join his team in Hell, where he belonged. He'd been dead for so many years…they just hadn't disposed of his body yet._

_But he knew that he would never allow a Takatori that sort of satisfaction; he wouldn't let the traitorous bastard be the one to finally kill him._

_Slumping back into a chair, Aya picked up the envelope, allowing several sheets of paper to slide onto the table. A quick scan made one thing perfectly clear: his options were limited._

_He could join another Japanese team, or he could join an organisation that was connected to the same global network as Kritiker. _

_The choice to relocate to London was made completely at random: Aya simply picked up a single sheet, willing to accept his fate as long as it removed him from Takatori's influence._

_Decision finished, Aya crept through the quiet house towards the bedrooms. Bypassing his own door, he paused at the closed entrance to Yohji's former room; a gentle prod had the wood swinging open, revealing a messy den with a colourful array of clothing and bric-a-brac cluttering up every available surface._

_Aya stepped gingerly inside, breathing the scent of cigarettes in deeply; he'd yelled at Yohji so many times for smoking inside the building._

_He would have never thought he'd miss the smell._

_Sighing quietly, the redhead sank down onto the soft bed, his body curling in on itself as pain ran through him._

_A restless, semi-somnambulant state descended upon Aya, and he barely left the room until a loud knock sounded on the building's front door a week later._

* * *

_Present day_

* * *

Aya paced the length of his room, angrily yelling in Japanese into his mobile phone. The woman on the other end of the line wasn't Rex or anyone that Aya knew, but she could certainly handle herself just as well as Persia's previous assistants.

"No! I'm not going to discuss this with anyone else; get me Takatori, and get him _now!"_

The woman's voice didn't falter or shake as she calmly rebuffed the furious shout. "I'm sorry, sir, but he is not available right now. I…"

"You're _lying_," Aya hissed, his voice dropping. "Tell that piece of scum that Abyssinian, formerly of Weiss, wants to have an _urgent_ conversation."

The anger did a perfect job of numbing the emotional pain, the jarring shock of seeing a dead man twice in three days. After the first encounter, Aya had convinced himself that the short-haired, suit-clad man had merely _looked_ like Yohji. He had assumed that the years of exposure to chemicals, both flowershop and explosive, had warped his mind.

But the second encounter…when the man had pushed for Aya to remember, the dedication and passion in his eyes had flared up until he had almost looked like the _real_ Yohji...the one from _before_ Neu.

Now Aya just wanted to know what the fuck was going on.

Fuming, the redhead almost missed the woman's quiet gasp as the scrape of a chair being pushed back sounded into his ear.

"_Weiss_," she repeated before the line went quiet, the phone clearly having been put down. Aya breathed hard as he waited impatiently for Takatori to man up and face him, as it were.

He _knew_ that the lying bastard would know something about why a dead Japanese man was buying flowers in London.

"Fujimiya," came the cool greeting Aya had been waiting for. The redhead purposely waited several moments to calm himself down, unwilling to allow the man to hear how much this was affecting him.

"Takatori," he eventually replied. He wasn't about to refer to the man as 'Persia'; he was no longer under the thumb of Kritiker.

"May I enquire as to why you are upsetting my secretary and interrupting an important dinner meeting, Fujimiya? I don't have all day."

The cold tone snapped Aya's last nerve. The man had _lied_ about Yohji's death, and would probably have continued to do so indefinitely. Aya utterly _resented_ such dishonesty.

"Why did you tell me he was _dead?" _Aya wasn't entirely proud of the unhinged growl that broke from his throat. It was only Yohji who could possibly have pulled this sort of reaction from him…that's the way it had always been…

An irritated sigh came from the younger man. "You're going to need to clarify that. _Who_?"

"_Yohji_, you goddamned son of a bitch! You told me he was dead!"

"He _is_ dead, Fujimiya. I suggest that you seek the assistance of a trained psychiatrist; it seems that the pressures of your life are becoming too much." Disinterest was clear in Takatori's voice. "Is there anything else?"

"He's _not_ dead. He's standing in my store in a _suit_." Aya slammed his fist into the wall, unable to feel the pain streaking through his hand. He was _furious_; Takatori was still lying to him.

"Fine. Kudoh Yohji is dead. The man you are referring to is Itou Ryo, a Japanese company manager with a wife by the name of Asuka. I suggest that you _do not_ get involved."

Aya wasn't entirely aware of his finger moving to end the call. The phone dropped to the ground, his hand shaking as he stared at nothing. A _wife_? Yohji was married?

No…not Yohji…Itou Ryo.

But…_why?_ Aya's eyes went wide as he remembered the final fight he and Yohji had been through. The blonde had been determined to forget everything…had he possibly done just that?

The fucking idiot…

Mind whirring through a combination of detached theorising and utter despair, Aya continued to pace back and forth across his bedroom, muttering softly to himself

* * *

Ryo followed Chloe up the stairs, his heart pounding madly as he reached for a non-existent cigarette. This Aya man knew something about the past. He'd called Ryo something…a name…but what had it _been?_

He was so close to finding out about his true self…maybe. Asuka would be so _happy_ when she found out!

"I suppose he's in here," Chloe said softly, gesturing to a closed door along the hallway. The man reached out to knock, but his hand faltered when a furious shout in Japanese rang from within the room.

"_Yohji_, you goddamned son of a bitch! You told me he was dead!"

Ryo's breath hitched. That was _definitely_ what Aya had called him before…but what was that about being _dead?_

Ryo certainly didn't feel very dead.

Glancing across, he saw that Chloe was staring at the closed door, concern written all over his face. It sent a little pang of guilt through Ryo; he was so focused on himself that he was hurting the redhead…and it looked like he might have been hurting the other blonde, too.

A loud bang came from behind the door, and Ryo jumped in shock. What was happening in there? Chloe seemed to be wondering the same thing, and he ran off down the hall after telling Ryo, "Wait here."

Well, it wasn't as if Ryo was _planning _on leaving. He just wanted to talk to the redhead, to just have a proper conversation and see if he could be pointed in the right direction about his past. He didn't want to hurt the man; he just wanted to know his past.

Chloe suddenly reappeared, a small metal _something_ in his hand. Ryo watched in confusion as the man crouched down at the door, his body obscuring whatever he was doing. The scraping sounds soon stopped and the man stood back up, turning back to Ryo.

"You might want to wait here for a moment. Allow me to handle this first."

Ryo was more than happy to agree. Aya seemed…erratic, at best. He could easily be dangerous.

Chloe knocked sharply on the door, though he didn't go to open it. "Aya? I'm coming in."

There was no response, and Chloe slowly turned the handle to open the door. "Aya?"

"Get out," a slightly shaky voice snapped in English. Ryo bit his lip; he was clearly making this man _hurt_. There had to be a better way to find out about his past life.

"Why are you so worked up, Aya? Ryo just wanted to…"

Chloe trailed off as Aya started to laugh, a horribly bitter sound. "Ryo? That man you call _Ryo_ doesn't really exist. He's just a pathetic shadow of Kudoh Yohji, the greatest man I ever met."

"What are you on about, Aya? He _does_ exist. He's standing right…" Chloe looked around, catching sight of Ryo's retreating back.

He couldn't do this. He was hurting everyone over something that barely even _mattered_. Why was it so important that he find out about his prior life? Obviously no one had cared enough to try and find him, so why should he try and find _them_?

He had a wife, and a good job, and a nice home. His old life couldn't have been any better than that.

But…what had Aya said? That he was…a shadow of…_Kudoh Yohji_.

Was that his real name?

Ryo walked out of the store in a daze, barely hearing or seeing anything around him. Aya _knew_ him…or had known him. He had a _name,_ now…he just wasn't sure what to do with it.

Ryo's head snapped up, his eyes finally taking in the street around him. He needed to find the closest internet café.

* * *

Several hours later, Chloe was anxiously moving around the store, unable to move his mind from Aya and the strange Japanese man. The afternoon rush would be beginning soon, but he was considering simply closing up for the day.

Aya was clearly in no condition to work, and Chloe was worried about the usually collected redhead. He'd never seen the man have such an emotional reaction to anything.

The sound of the door opening had him spinning to face the entrance, and relief flooded him when he saw the man who had just walked in. Hopefully, Ken would know something more about this, the brunette having lived with Aya longer than any of the others.

"Ken! Lock the door, and then follow me."

Confusion written all over his face, Ken slowly complied with Chloe's requests. "Uh…alright, but why? Where's the fire?"

Chloe ignored the joke, gesturing for the athlete to follow him towards the back of the store. "Something is wrong with Aya. A Japanese man came to see him, and now he's refusing to speak with anyone."

Ken's immediate thought was that something had happened to Aya's sister, and that the man had been the unlucky bastard charged with delivering the news. If that was the case, then something _very_ bad was going to happen…

"Do you know what the guy told Aya?"

"No, I was out the back. But Aya said something about Ryo- that's this man's name- being a shadow of the greatest man he'd ever met, or something along those lines. Do you have any idea what he might have been talking about?" Chloe led the way up the stairs, but he paused when he could no longer hear footsteps behind him.

Turning back, he saw that Ken's hand was clenched around the banister.

"What'd he look like? Ryo, I mean."

"Dirty blonde hair, green eyes, a rather handsome face…about my height," Chloe listed, trying to think if there was anything more _distinctive_ about the man in question. Everything so far had just been too vague.

But it didn't seem to matter: Ken was staring at him in shock, eyes wide as saucers.

"It _can't_ be…" Ken breathed, finally finding his feet again and dashing up the stairs.

Chloe merely watched as Ken started banging on Aya's door, wondering just what he was being left out of.


	5. Chapter 5: Report

*******I am a terrible person with no motivation. I can't say for certain, but there probably won't be many updates for this story while Welcome to the Night is still ongoing. I'll finish it, though. It might take a while, but I promise I won't abandon this story. Degenerate's honour.*******

* * *

Ryo rubbed at his eyes, trying to ease the ache of staring at a computer screen for several hours. He was beginning to think that this was pointless: he hadn't found a single mention of a Kudoh Yohji who fit into the right age range or time frame.

In a last-ditch attempt to find something, _anything_, he was now scanning over various archives of Japanese newspaper reports from the past fifteen years. It was a long shot, considering the fact that the rest of the internet had provided _nothing_, but Ryo knew he had to try.

Eyes skimming down the webpage for anything that might stand out, Ryo scrolled down, paused, and immediately returned to the top of the page. He could've _sworn_ that he'd seen…

Green eyes widened as Ryo found the entry that had caught his eye. The small article preview below the link only stated, '…identified as Kudoh Yohji and Murase Asuka, were…' and Ryo laughed softly. What kind of a coincidence was _that_? Another Yohji with a woman named Asuka. Out of sheer curiosity and boredom he opened the article, waiting impatiently while the page loaded.

Leaning his chin on his hand as he read the short article, Ryo suddenly found that it was becoming harder to breathe, his heart pounding like he'd been sprinting.

_**Murder Suspect Found Dead**_

_The body of a double-homicide suspect, age thirty-two, was found yesterday in Osaka Bay. The man, who cannot be named for legal reasons, was discovered in a suitcase that had been seen floating in the water by numerous onlookers. The cause of death is currently unknown, and it has not been established whether this relates to the investigation into the double-homicide.  
Last Wednesday two bodies were discovered in a Kyoto alley, both with bullet wounds to the head and chest areas. The eighteen-year-old victims, identified as Kudoh Yohji and Murase Asuka, were both employed as private investigators, and the deceased man had been questioned by police multiple times in regards to the murder. Police enquiry continues into both cases._

The small piece was followed by a greyscale photo of a man and a woman, the accompanying caption reading, 'Homicide victims Kudoh Yohji and Murase Asuka.' Ryo ignored it for the moment, instead looking up to see the date on the article.

It was eleven years old.

Leaning close up to the screen, Ryo attempted to make out the features of the man in the photo. He was noticeably taller than the woman, his arm slung casually around her waist.

Whether it was his mind playing some sort of sick joke on him, or something else altogether, Ryo found that he couldn't tear his eyes away from the small picture. Although the man's hair was slicked back, sunglasses perched on his nose and obscuring some of his face, Ryo could have sworn that the facial structure was _familiar._

It _looked_ like him…and the ages matched up perfectly.

But he most certainly wasn't dead. No matter what the newspaper and the mysterious Aya said.

_What the fuck is going on?_

* * *

Ken banged on Aya's door, unwilling to enter without permission when he knew full well that the redhead wouldn't hesitate to stab him. Chloe was standing off to the side, a frown marring his handsome face.

"Aya, get out here. We need to talk."

No answer came from the other side of the door; just the same as how Ken's five other requests for Aya to open up had been ignored. Giving a frustrated sigh, the brunette slammed his fist into the wood hard enough to leave a dent. "Fuck it. If you don't open this door, Aya, then I'm coming in. Remember, there's two of us and only one of you."

Counting loudly from twenty to zero, Ken listened hard for any noise of movement from inside Aya's room. When he finished counting, he motioned for Chloe to move in behind him as he slowly opened the unlockable door.

Fully expecting Aya to come at him, katana in hand, Ken was genuinely shocked to see the redhead sitting cross-legged in the centre of the room. The sword that had been recovered from the laboratory's wreckage was sitting across his knees, Aya running a soft polishing cloth across the battered weapon.

It was a perfectly normal thing to see the man doing, apart from one small detail: Ken hadn't seen Aya with that particular sword since their time together in Weiss.

When the brunette had rejoined the swordsman in London, Aya had been using a new sword. As far as Ken knew, the sword that was currently being polished hadn't been used since Aya had thrown it to…

…_Yohji_.

His breath catching, Ken took a few tentative steps into the room. Aya didn't look up from his task or even give any indication that he realised the other two were there; he just kept running the cloth across the old blade.

"Aya? We really do need to talk." By this point, Ken wasn't expecting a response. Moving slowly, as if he was dealing with a wild animal, the younger man lowered himself until he was kneeling before Aya. "Aya. Don't ignore me."

The hand running the polishing cloth over steel slowed, eventually coming to a stop as Aya finally glared up through the fall of his fringe. "It's rather difficult to concentrate with that infernal racket outside."

The bitingly cold tone hit Ken hard: he hadn't heard Aya speak like that since Weiss. The Aya he'd met in England wasn't exceedingly friendly or outgoing, but he had a degree of warmth about him that hadn't been present in the past.

Now, it was sounding like the redhead had regressed into his old shell.

"Don't do this. I just want to talk to you about…what you saw earlier. _Who_ you saw." Ken kept a close eye on Aya's hands, having learnt to recognise the tiny movements that the man made in the milliseconds before he attacked. For now, though, Aya seemed content to lower his gaze and continue polishing the sword.

"I don't want to talk."

Fingers clenching, Ken reminded himself that it would be a bad idea to punch the man who was holding a katana. He had become slightly better at restraining his violent impulses since his self-imposed stint in jail, but he still had hard limits.

Aya's current behaviour was quickly sending him towards one of those limits.

"It's important. You said something about…Yohji…Aya, why would you do that?"

"Because it _was_ Yohji." The matter-of-fact tone in Aya's voice sent pangs of sadness through Ken; Aya had always had a lot more problems than he'd ever let on. A few more had clearly popped up after the school mission.

"Aya…Yohji died. The collapse of the building killed him. They _found_ his _body_." If he'd been dealing with anyone else, Ken would've grabbed their chin and made them look at him as he spoke. But despite having spent years with Aya, the man continued to intimidate the shit out of him.

"It was Yohji." The repeated words still brokered no argument, and Ken sighed heavily.

"I'm sorry, Aya, but it couldn't have been. I get it that you miss him; I miss him too. But even if he _was_ still alive, why would he be in London of all places? Chloe told me about the guy you saw: it must've just been someone who looked like Yohji."

Aya lifted the sword, and Ken was on his feet in a second. Dodging quickly out of the redhead's range, Ken felt his defensive instincts react even as the other man stayed on the floor, simply looking at the blade's imperfections in a different light.

The silence in the room stretched on, Ken not wanting to begin an emotional argument and Chloe uncertain as to what exactly was going on. Both were a little startled when Aya broke the quiet, still holding the sword up for inspection.

"I treasured this blade…_Shion_…"

Chloe looked at Ken, his expression questioning; Ken just shrugged back, unsure of what Aya was talking about. He didn't know who or what Shion was, but it must have had _something_ to do with the katana. Aya had never spoken about his past, and he'd presumably used that blade since before the night when he had first encountered the then-three person Weiss team.

"…And you were the last person to use it, Yohji."

Ken couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't take the way that Aya was talking about their dead teammate and friend like he was still alive; he couldn't take the way Aya seemed to have turned back into the dead shell he'd become after Takatori's death.

Fists balling by his sides, Ken's temper snapped.

"Aya! He's dead! Kudoh Yohji is fucking _dead_, he's _not coming back_. Omi told me personally, like I'm sure he told you: Yohji. Is. _Dead_. He's not the man who was in the store! That was obviously someone else. Besides, I didn't even think you _liked_ the guy. You always acted like he was so far beneath you, even when he tried to do something good for you."

The sword hit the carpeted floor with a dull thud, Aya dropping it as he launched to his feet and advanced on the brunette. His voice was low and quiet, but dangerous and threatening all the same. "Don't presume to know how I think and feel, _Hidaka_."

"I don't! I'm just saying the truth: Yohji is dead. I know it, you know it, so open your fucking eyes and admit it!"

Aya's eyes narrowed dangerously, and Ken felt a flash of fear through the anger. He pushed it aside though, unwilling to back down on the redhead's ridiculous allegations.

"That's just what they _told_ us. When did Kritiker ever tell us the whole truth? They constantly lied to us, so why would this be any different?"

"But that was back then! Omi's the one in charge now, and he wouldn't lie to us. That. Wasn't. Yohji!"

A deep, bitter laugh broke free from Aya's throat, and he stepped right up to the younger man. "You seem to be having some problems comprehending this: 'Omi' doesn't exist. 'Omi' _never _existed, only Takatori Mamoru did. Every Takatori is nothing more than lying scum, and that _includes _your little boyfriend."

Ken's eyes widened, shock running though his system. _How…how does he know about that…_

"You thought I didn't _know_? Your little clandestine affair was painfully obvious, the same as the reason why you're here now. Takatori told you that he couldn't risk having a lover while he ran Kritiker, didn't he. That's why he sent you to me."

The brunette was still speechless. He'd always assumed that Aya ignored them all, that because he never spoke he never _observed_. It was only now that he was realising just how perceptive the swordsman could be.

Aya seemed to take Ken's silence for affirmation, and he let out another bitter laugh. "He lied then, too. He is clearly sleeping with Prodigy, and just needed you out of the way. That Schwarz was _far_ too protective of Takatori to be nothing more than a hired guard."

Pain gripped Ken's heart and he shoved his hands into his pockets, knowing that he could no longer beat Aya in a physical or verbal fight. His eyes pricked with heat, and without another word he turned around, nearly shoving into Chloe as he practically ran from the room.

The silent blonde watched Ken leave before slowly turning back to Aya, who was once again on the floor with the sword in his lap.

"Close the door as you leave," Aya murmured in a distracted voice without looking up. Chloe took a few more moments to watch the suddenly-calm man return to cleaning his katana, but eventually left the redhead to his task.

He had a question to ask Yuki when the younger man returned.

* * *

Computer print-out tucked into his pocket, Ryo tapped his foot nervously against the wooden floor of the café he was sitting in. He hadn't been able to find anything past that one report, neither name leading to any useful information.

He felt sick to his stomach: nothing made sense anymore. He kept hearing that he was dead, and that _scared_ him.

He almost felt like he was worse off now that he had slightly more information about those missing years. It was almost to the point where he was ready to quit his job and return to Japan, go back to a simple life with Asuka and just live in the 'now'.

But he couldn't.

Something in his mind was pulling him towards that flowershop, to the mysterious redhead who seemed to be hiding…something.

Taking a large mouthful from the strong black coffee sitting beside him, Ryo shuddered as he realised that he had become so lost in thought that the drink had gone cold. Pushing the cup away, he let his head fall forward into his hands.

He had two choices: Pretend like nothing had ever happened, and forget all about this…Kudoh Yohji; or follow every possible lead he had and find his way to the bottom of the mystery that was himself.

A small smile appeared on Ryo's face. He wasn't entirely sure if it had anything to do with the news article's mention of Kudoh and Murase being private investigators, but he _wanted_ to look into this whole…_thing_.

He loved Asuka, and he liked his current life; but he always felt strangely empty when he realised that half his past was gone.

Before he entirely knew what he was doing, Ryo stood up and paid for his half-full coffee, heading out into the street. He hadn't gone far from the flowershop, though that hadn't been an entirely conscious decision; his shaky grasp of this neighbourhood allowed him to know that it was only a few blocks away.

Heart beating a little faster than normal, the man reached for his pocket and searched for something that wasn't there. A pack of cigarettes? It seemed likely that he was performing that old habit, what with his stress levels feeling like they were about to go through the roof.

A brief thought flashed across his brain to buy a pack and calm himself down, but he fought the urge. Asuka would kill him if he took up smoking…again. He was stronger than that.

Yet, it was still so tempting to see if smoking was really as relaxing as he'd heard…

Still struggling with his mental debate, Ryo was a little surprised when he looked up and saw the flowershop just ahead of him. Stopping still in the middle of the footpath, he couldn't help but wonder if this was what he _really_ wanted to do.

He had the oddest feeling that it would be better to leave now, leave this whole mess behind him and not poke around in things that may have been better off forgotten.

Another part of his mind, though, was screaming at him to walk into that store, grab Aya by the front of his shirt, and _break his goddamn fingers one-by-one until_…

Ryo felt a wave of revulsion run through him. Where the _Hell_ had that come from? He'd never even been in a _fight_, let alone interrogated someone with torture!

…Or, at least, he _thought_ he hadn't.

Shaking his head softly, Ryo forced himself to breathe properly. He was being ridiculous. He was just an ordinary man with an ordinary life. This wasn't a movie. His past was probably just as unassuming as his present.

And going to see this Aya would confirm that fact.

Standing perfectly upright, Ryo walked towards the Kitten's House and up the path, noting absently that the crowd of young girls had yet to appear. It was only when he reached the front door that he realised the sign was turned to 'closed', and there was no movement going on within the store.

Confused, Ryo checked his watch. It was only early in the afternoon, and they'd been open earlier; why would they be closed now? That didn't seem like particularly good business practice.

An odd sense of disappointment settled in Ryo's chest as he turned away from the door. It wasn't an enjoyable sensation, and he tried his best to ignore it.

Checking his watch again, Ryo made a few quick calculations. If he went home now, he could probably call Asuka. Chances were that she would still be awake, if he had his time zones correct.

Then, it would probably be late enough that he could get himself a drink without seeming _too _pathetic. He didn't care what Matt would have to say about it: he _needed_ one, after the day he'd had. Or more than one…

Anything to get the news report and Aya out of his mind for a few minutes.

Nodding resolutely to himself, Ryo walked quickly towards the station and away from the closed flowershop.


End file.
